Erik sat at his desk, writing a letter to de Chagny. He wanted the Vicomte to know he was walking into a trap so that he could have pleasure defeating him anyway. He wanted the Vicomte to suffer. He wanted Christine to know that this could have been prevented if she had just chosen him. After finishing his letter, Erik signed it with his customary O.G. and sealed it with a red wax skull.

"He's not coming," Amelia called from the bed where she was still tied up.

"Of course not," Erik replied. "I don't care about your husband. Why do you think I waited until he was leaving the country?"

"I meant Raoul. He isn't going to come, despite what you seem to think."

Turning around to face her, Erik could see that her eyes were closed and her cheeks were stained with tears. "And what makes you think that?"

"Well, for starters, he hates me. Second of all, he's too busy screwing his little opera whore to care about what's happening to me."

The instant the insult was out of her mouth, Erik was on his feet, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat. Amelia's eyes were as wide as saucers and her wrists strained against the lasso as she struggled to breathe. "Never ever insult Christine again. Do you understand me?" he hissed. Amelia nodded as her face began to turn blue. Just before she fainted, Erik released her.

"So it's true," she said as she gasped for air. "You're in love with her too. I don't understand what anyone could possibly see in her. She's selfish and will use anyone to serve her own purposes."

Erik grabbed her neck again. "What part of 'never insult Christine again' didn't you understand?" he demanded. "She is more innocent, kind, and pure than a selfish brat like you could never be."

"She used you to become famous just like she's used my brother to get his wealth and title," Amelia squeaked as he slowly cut off her air supply again.

"Christine would never," he snarled.

"Then why isn't she here with you?" Amelia questioned.

That struck a nerve in him. Erik had never thought Christine capable of manipulating anyone, much less him. Then he realized that Amelia was just trying to get under his skin. This was the foolish de Chagny bravery. He wondered how this woman who was terrified of her own husband could possibly stand up to him. "You realize that I can kill you easily. All I have to do is squeeze." To emphasize his point, he did just that.

Amelia held his gaze. "I don't fear death," she rasped.

He reluctantly loosened his grip, knowing that he needed to keep her alive. "You should," he replied, running his fingers down her neck and tracing her collarbone, almost sensually. Amelia shivered under his touch. For a moment, he thought it was from fear, or perhaps something more, but then he realized that her teeth were chattering. "Cold?" he sneered.

"Perhaps," she said, trying to feign indifference, but Erik could tell she was trying not to shiver in front of him. "But a gentleman would never tie up a lady after she's been dumped in a lake of freezing water and is in a soaking wet dress."

"I'm no gentleman," he hissed. Erik allowed his fingers to lightly trace the laces on the front of her dress. "But if this dress is such a bother, I'm sure we can come up with another solution." Amelia inhaled sharply as she tried to squirm away. While he really didn't want to help her, Erik also didn't want her dying of pneumonia either, so he went to fetch her something dry to wear.

Mia let out a sigh of relief as the Phantom left. Once he was out of sight, she turned her attention to the rope around her wrists. She began to struggle in an attempt to slip free. If she could just get one hand loose, she'd be able to untie herself and hopefully escape before he came back. But the Phantom had tied her up so tightly and her body was shivering violently from the cold.

"Are you finished yet?" Mia shrieked in surprise as she realized the Phantom was once again beside her. "Because you're not going to be able to untie that knot. Only someone who knows the secret can untie it, and I had to travel all the way to Persia to learn it."

She leaned back against the wooden neck of the swan in defeat. "I had to try didn't I?"

He leaned over and within seconds, her wrists were free. Mia glanced at towards the lake, considering her options. Swimming was out of the question. Whatever was in the water would most likely try to drown her, and the Phantom probably wasn't going to save her again. What were the chances she could make it to the boat? "Don't even think about it," he snarled.

The Phantom grabbed her arm, pulling her off of the bed roughly and dragged her deeper into his lair. Mia knew she couldn't fight his strength and just gave up, letting him lead her. He brought her into a bathroom. The tub was full of bubbles and water, steam curling off the top. The Phantom shoved something white into her hands. It turned out to be a cotton nightgown. Mia took one look at it and shook her head. "Surely you have something with longer sleeves."

"I'm sorry Madame, but the selection I have is rather limited, especially compared to what you're probably used to." The disdain in his voice was clear.

"But it's cold," she whined. Mia knew she was sounding like a spoiled child, but she couldn't wear short sleeves. Not even here.

"Get over it," he growled. "I'll be back in twenty minutes. It would be wise to be finished by then."

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Mia locked it before beginning to rummage through the bathroom. She was looking for a razor, anything sharp, just something she could use as a weapon. Maybe, just maybe she could fight her way out. However, the only things that could even be remotely useful were a few glass bottles. Mia considered smashing one because then she'd have something sharp, but she knew it would be nearly impossible to get close enough to the Phantom to hurt him enough to get away.

Feeling defeated, Mia climbed into the bath. The hot water helped her to stop shivering and helped her relax a bit. For the first time since she had been brought here, she had a moment to think about her situation. She was trapped; the Phantom's captive to lure Raoul here to his death. Gaston was off to London as of last night which meant she was on her own. She was going to have to do whatever she could to free herself and keep Raoul away from here. Mia was going to have to convince the Phantom that Raoul wouldn't come, escape on her own, get him to release her, seduce him, do something, anything, but she had to keep her baby brother safe.

There was a banging on the door. "I'm opening the door," she heard the Phantom yell.

With a pounding heart, Mia realized that her twenty minutes must be up. "No, wait!" she cried, leaping out of the bath. "Just give me two more minutes!" She haphazardly dried herself off and yanked the nightgown on. Mia snatched a comb off the vanity and began to run it through her hair as the door slammed open behind her.

"Your time is up." Mia dropped the comb and hugged herself tightly as he drew near. The Phantom grabbed her upper arm and dragged her back to the bed. She noticed that the wet black sheets had been replaced with red satin ones.

He threw her onto the bed and moved to grab her wrists to tie her up again. "No, wait, I won't run away," Mia promised. "You don't have to do that. You know full well that I've nowhere to go." The Phantom stared at her suspiciously for a moment before leaving her. Mia closed her eyes as she nestled under the sheets, celebrating her tiny victory. This one small step might be a head start towards escape. Besides, she might be a captive, but she knew she couldn't ever let anyone see the scars.